Robert the Bruce and the struggle for Scottish independence/Adventures of the King of Scots

by Herbert Maxwell

⁠
Sir John de St. John.⁠	Murdoch of Cumloden.

CHAPTER VII.

ADVENTURES OF THE KING OF SCOTS.

A.D. 1306-1307.

THE King of Scots and his companions wandered among the Highland hills for some weeks before venturing to the neighbourhood of Aberdeen. Here Robert was joined by his queen, his daughter Marjorie, and his two sisters. Thence they betook themselves to the west country, enduring great privations. Douglas is mentioned as their chief purveyor.

"But worthy James of Douglas
Ay travaland and besy was
For to purchas the ladyis met,^[1]
And it on many wis wald get.
For quhile ^[2] he venesoun tham brocht,
And with his handis quhile he wrocht
Gynnis^[3] to tak geddis^[4] and salmounis,
Troutis, elis and als menounis."^[5]

In this way they came to the borders of Lorn. The Macdoualls of Lorn were of the same blood as those of that name in Galloway—sworn enemies of Bruce. Moreover, Alexander of Argyle had married an aunt of the murdered Comyn, thus the King was here in great peril. At a place still called Dalry—the King's field—a combat took place, in which Bruce's party, greatly outnumbered, were badly worsted, Douglas and de la Haye both being wounded.^[6] The King himself was in great peril at the hands of three brothers called Macandrosser, or sons of the door-keeper, who attacked him as he was riding along a strip of narrow ground between a lake and a steep hill. One of them seized the King's bridle, but his arm was shorn from the shoulder by a sweep of Robert's battle-axe. The second seized the stirrup, but the King set spurs to his horse, pressing his foot so heavily on the fellow's hand that he was dragged along the ground, and the King slew him, having first disposed of the third brother, who attempted to spring up behind the saddle. Afterwards, King Robert managed to cover the retreat of the ladies, whom he sent under escort of his brother Nigel and the Earl of Athol to the fancied security of Kildrummie, the royal castle in Aberdeenshire, which, it will be remembered, Edward had committed to his keeping. Many years were to roll by—many heads were to be laid low—before the King and Queen of Scots were to meet again.

KILDRUMMIE CASTLE.

(From a photograph by Valentine Bros., Dundee.)

The Prince of Wales left his father near the Border and entered Scotland at the head of a powerful army. On July 11th, he received the unconditional surrender of King Robert's castle of Lochmaben, passed northward, and before September 13th had taken Kildrummie.^[7] It is the tradition of that neighbourhood that the fall of this stronghold was hastened by treachery. Some one set fire to the forage stored in the chapel of the castle, and in the confusion the English were admitted. The Scottish, queen and princesses, dreading the rigours of a siege, had, on the approach of the English army, sought sanctuary in St. Duthac's chapel at Tain; but it availed them nothing, for the Earl of Ross seized them and handed them over to the English. Nigel de Brus was taken at Kildrummie, with Sir Alexander de Lindsay and Sir Robert Boyd. Nigel was sent for trial to Berwick, and was there executed as a traitor.

As for the ladies, singular directions were given for the security of three of them. The Earl of Buchan, it is said, wished to kill his Countess for the affront she had put on him by crowning King Robert; but this Edward would not allow. He gave orders that she, the Princess Marjorie, and Marie de Brus should be confined in cages; which was literally carried out. But this was not quite such a barbarous punishment as it sounds, for English waiting-women were provided to attend on the ladies, and the "kages," which were to be constructed inside turrets of the castles of Roxburgh and Berwick and the Tower of London, were to be made of wooden lattice strengthened with iron, and furnished like a comfortable chamber (et q la kage soit ensi fait q la Contesse y eit essement de chambre cortoise).^[8] The Queen was to be imprisoned at Brustewick. Two waiting-women "advanced in years and not gay," two valets, and a foot page were appointed by King Edward's command, "sober and not riotous, to make her bed, and for other things necessary for the comfort of her chamber."

Sir Simon Fraser was executed in London on September 6th, according to the ferocious manner prescribed by the Norman law against high treason. First he was hung, then taken down alive from the gallows and his entrails torn out and burned before his eyes. Next he was beheaded, the body was hung up again, and the head was taken, with trumpets sounding, to London Bridge and there fixed up. On the 27th, the body and the gallows were taken down and burnt together by special orders of the King.^[9] The Earl of Athol, who had been taken in attempting to escape by sea, suffered in the same way on October 29th, but inasmuch as he was cousin of the King of England, his gibbet was made thirty feet higher than Fraser's. The chronicler of the Flores complacently dwells on the details of his death, which, he says, were arranged ut majores cruciatus sentiret—that he might endure the greater torment.

Sir Christopher de Seton was hanged at Dumfries, his brother Sir Alexander at Newcastle. It was indeed a bloody gaol-delivery at the last-named town. Besides Sir Alexander, fifteen prisoners, including two knights, Sir David de Inchmartin and Sir John de Cambo, were summarily hanged, the King's injunctions being stern and strict that none of them were to be allowed a trial.^[10] Among these victims was Alexander le Skyrmyshour,^[11] whom Wallace had appointed hereditary standard-bearer of Scotland, and John de Seton, an Englishman, who, immediately after Comyn's murder, had captured Sir Richard de Siward's new castle of Tibbers^[12] and made prisoner Sir Richard, the Sheriff of Dumfriesshire.

The extant record of this wholesale execution at Newcastle enables us to correct Barbour's narrative, which places the fall of Kildrummie a year later, and puts the sentence on the prisoners into the lips of the dying Edward.

Powerful as he was in vengeance, the King of England dared not violate benefit of clergy by taking the lives of the Bishops of Glasgow and St. Andrews and the Abbot of Scone, who fell into his hands during the summer of 1306. To do so would have been an act of sacrilege, and though they were put in irons and sent to English prisons, all the incensed King could do further was to draw up a charge of perjury and rebellion against them, and lay it before the Pope.^[13] Nothing illustrates more forcibly the peculiar social and political relations of the Church and State at this time. Here were these feudal prelates, as much at home in mail and salade as in cope and mitre—in the knightly saddle as in the episcopal chair. As swift to shed blood as to administer the sacraments, they were almost as well practised in the firing of homesteads as in the swinging of censers. Their immunities were shared by no lay subjects. The ægis of St. Peter protected them from civil process; not the monarch himself could impeach them for high treason: they bowed only to the jurisdiction of the Bishop of Rome; and it is part of the irony of history that a fuller record remains of their violence and intrigue, than of the peaceful discharge of their pastoral work.

Still, Edward panted to have all the Scottish bishops in his power, and wrote impatiently from Lancaster on August 11th, asking why de Valence could not send him word of the Bishop of Moray's taking. That prelate had fled betimes to the Court of King Haco of Norway, from whom Edward tried in vain to obtain his surrender. Bruce's nephew, Thomas Randolph, of whom we are to hear much in years to come, was pardoned on doing fresh fealty to Edward; and the nephew of Bruce's first wife, the young Earl of Mar, though kept in prison, was not put in irons because of his tender years. James the Steward did homage to the King of England at Lanercost on October 23d.

To follow the fortunes of King Robert, now embarked on the most perilous and adventurous period of his life, we may safely entrust ourselves to the guidance of Barbour; checking, from time to time, his details and exact chronology by reference to official records. Plenty of miraculous and impossible incidents wove themselves into the story of the restorer of Scottish monarchy under the hands of later writers, but none of these can be traced to Barbour's authority.

After parting with his Queen and the other ladies, Bruce turned westward again on foot, with Sir James Douglas and about two hundred followers, intending to seek shelter in one of the islands. Nigel Campbell was sent forward to the coast to try and secure shipping. The King, following a few days later, came to the shores of Loch Lomond, where boat there was none to be seen. To go round either end of the lake would have led them into the perilous neighbourhood of John of Lorn on the one hand, or Sir John de Menteith on the other. At last, Douglas, carefully examining the shore, found a little sunken boat, which they managed to make fairly seaworthy. It would, however, only carry three men at a time, and a whole night and day were spent in ferrying the party across. Some of the hardy hill men swam over with their arms and clothes tied on their heads. To pass away the time while the crossing was being effected we are told that King Robert read aloud to his companions the romance of Ferambras and Oliver.

Malcolm, Earl of Lennox, was made aware one day that there were poachers afoot in his forest after the deer. He went out in pursuit of them, but great was his delight to find that it was the King of Scots, for he was devoted to his cause. This encounter probably saved the lives, or at least the liberty, of the whole party; for they were hard pressed for food, winter was approaching, and they dared not leave the hills, except by sea. Lennox fed and lodged the wanderers, a timely aid, which King Robert did not forget in brighter days.^[14]

Nevertheless, the borders of Lorn and Menteith were no safe resting-place for the Bruce. Nigel Campbell had managed to secure some vessels, in which the King and his party embarked somewhere on the Clyde near Dunbarton and sailed for Cantyre. Lennox meant to have sailed with them, but his galley was delayed behind the others, and fell in with the galleys of Lorn. He was hotly pursued, and only escaped capture by throwing overboard all his baggage.

Angus of the Isles received the King and his men at Dunaverty Castle in Cantyre,^[15] and entertained them right hospitably. Luckily, however, Bruce did not tarry long with him, but sailed on the third day about three hundred men in all, for Rachrin (now Rathlin), an island off the Irish coast, about fourteen miles south-west of the Mull of Cantyre. They were only just in time, for Lorn had tracked them

"THE ROCK OF BLOOD." SITE OF THE CASTLE OF DUNAVERTY.

(From a photograph by Valentine Bros., Dundee.)

out. On September 22d Dunaverty was closely invested, and King Edward was hurrying forward miners and provisions for the siege.^[16]

It is exceedingly difficult to understand how King Robert, as Barbour affirms and as most people believe, managed to spend the whole of the winter of 1306-7 in Rachrin. That little island was part of the territory of Bysset of the Glens of Antrim, a trusted officer of England. That Bruce was known by the government to have gone to the islands, is clear from the orders sent by King Edward to Hugh Bysset in January, 1307, by which he was directed to join Sir John de Menteith and Sir Simon de Montacute with a fleet, "to put down Robert de Brus and destroy his retreat in the isles between Scotland and Ireland."^[17] On the other hand, if, as Fabyan and other English writers report, the King of Scots took refuge during this winter in Norway, it is very unlikely that Barbour should not have heard of it, and even less likely that he should suppress such a romantic episode. Neither is it likely that Bruce, had he gone to Norway, would have chosen for his return to Scotland a moment when his cause seemed utterly broken; when his friends, the Earl of Menteith, Sir Patrick Graham, and others had surrendered to Edward,^[18] and the coast was swarming with English and Highland galleys in search of him.

On the whole, it seems safer to accept the circumstantial statement of Barbour. He says that Douglas, fretting at being mewed up in Rachrin, and pitying the poor islanders who had to maintain so large a party, obtained the King's leave to make a reconnaissance in Arran. Taking with him Sir Robert Boyd, he crossed to Cantyre, and, making his crew row under the land by night, landed at daybreak in Arran. The galley was drawn ashore; the oars and tackle were hidden, and, wet, weary, and hungry, the party crept at daybreak into ambush near Brodick Castle.

This fortress was in the keeping of Sir John de Hastings, who had a number of guests with him. Three vessels, laden with stores of clothing, arms, wine, and victual for the castle, had arrived overnight and lay in the bay. Douglas from his hiding-place watched them discharging their cargo, till, choosing a moment when the garrison and sailors were toiling up to the castle laden with stores, he rushed upon them with his men, slew some, put the rest to flight, and seized the spoil. Strange to say, those within the castle did not venture to the rescue of their comrades, but closed the gates, and allowed Douglas to get clear off with his booty. Needless to say how welcome were the supplies of arms, food, and clothing secured in this lucky exploit.

Douglas must have sent word of his success to the King, and advised him to come to Arran; for in ten days' time Bruce arrived with thirty-three small galleys. A woman led him to the mouth of "ane woddy glen," where Douglas and his band harboured. The King blew his horn.

"That is the King!" cried Douglas, "I know his blast of old."

Again the forest echoed to the notes, and a third time.

"No fear but that is the King!" said Boyd; and once more the devoted band stood together.

Those who know the beautiful isle of Arran must be aware how greatly pleasanter and more secure was the refuge it afforded to the outlawed King than bleak and wind-swept Rachrin. Nearly twenty miles long, and rising into mountains nearly 3000 feet high, its glens and corries, at that time densely clothed with forest, might have enabled the fugitives to set their pursuers at defiance for an indefinite time. But neither the Bruce nor the Black Douglas were of the mould to accept life under such conditions. The King had no tidings of the fate of his wife and child; perhaps he knew the stern Edward well enough to fear the worst. Five and twenty miles to the south-east lay his own earldom of Carrick. From his post in Arran hills he could trace the familiar outlines of the coast round his birthplace at Turnberry; nay, on clear days he might make out the smoke rising out of his own chimneys.

He resolved to send a spy to find out how matters were faring over there, and whether there was any good-will among the people for their absent lord. Accordingly, on a day in early spring, one Cuthbert set out to gather intelligence. If he found the people well disposed and the country fairly safe, he was to kindle a fire on Turnberry Head at an appointed hour.

Cuthbert found everything as bad as could be. Henry de Percy lay in Bruce's own house of Turnberry, with a garrison of three hundred; English troops swarmed in all parts of the land, and, worst of all, the people were, some indifferent, others ill-disposed, to the cause of Bruce. So Cuthbert lit no fire.

Somebody else did, though, for it was the season of "muirburn," as they still call it in Scotland, when farmers burn the heather and gorse on their pastures. A chance blaze near Turnberry at the appointed hour deceived King Robert, who at once commanded his men to launch the galleys, and they rowed all night, steering for the fire. Landing before daybreak near Turnberry, they were met by the faithful Cuthbert, for he too had seen the light, and, distracted with fear lest thereby the King should be lured to his undoing, lay on the shore to warn him of his danger.

A council of war was held. Matters were, in truth, at a critical pass. Edward de Brus vowed he had had enough sea-faring, and, come what might, he would risk his fortune on land. Three hundred hungry desperadoes need little persuasion to action. It was still dark, and all was silent in the hamlet surrounding the castle. Bruce led his men along the causeway he knew so well. Not a scabbard rattled; the Highlanders, shod in deerskin brogues, moved as noiselessly as wildcats. Some of Percy's men lay outside the castle, in the cottages, but none stirred till, with a wild war-cry, the Bruce was upon them. The Englishmen were cut down as they struggled from their slumbers. Percy within his keep, heard the din of slaying, yet dared not come out in the dark, not knowing what was the strength of the enemy. The King, having collected what spoil and arms could be found, drew off to the hill country.

The exact date of this first success of the King of Scots is not known, but it was in the spring of 1307. Perhaps if we knew all, it would be proved that Bruce was acting in concert with his two brothers Thomas and Alexander, though with far different fortune. They landed from Ireland on February 9th in Loch Ryan, some five and twenty miles south of Turnberry, with Sir Rainald de Crauford and some hundreds of Irish kernes. They were attacked shortly after landing by Dougal Macdouall, a Galloway chief, and their party was cut to pieces. Thomas and Alexander de Brus, having been severely wounded, were taken to Carlisle, with de Crauford also, delivered to King Edward and instantly hanged. Macdouall was richly rewarded, and so were his men; and his son received from Edward the daughter and heiress of Hugh de Chaumpaigne in marriage.^[19]

Leaving his King in the fastnesses of the Galloway hills, Sir James de Douglas set off with two companions only, to reconnoitre his own estates in Lanarkshire. Coming in disguise to Hazelside, where lived Thomas Dickson,^[20] an old retainer of his father, he was joyfully welcomed and received to hiding. Others were found bearing enough goodwill to the family of Douglas, or enough ill-will to the English garrison, to join in a plot to seize the castle.

On Palm Sunday the whole garrison paraded for divine service in St. Bride's chapel of Douglas, distant about a mile from the castle. Douglas had caused his confederates to disguise themselves as simple peasants, himself carrying a flail, and they crowded into the chapel after the soldiers. The service was proceeding quietly, when suddenly the roof rang with the slogan, "A Douglas! a Douglas!"—the signal for attack. The English were speedily slaughtered or taken prisoners. The castle had been left in charge of a porter and cook who offered no resistance to the entry of the bloodstained band. Douglas and his men sat down to the dinner prepared for the luckless soldiers; after which, having stripped the building of everything worth taking, they piled the heavy stores and provisions together, staved in the wine casks, beheaded their prisoners, tossed in the corpses of men and horses in ghastly confusion, and set fire to the mass. The castle was burnt to the ground, and Douglas's men betook themselves to the hills to elude pursuit.

This affair took place on March 19, 1307, and, for the reason explained by Barbour, has ever since been remembered as the "Douglas Larder."

"For mele and malt and blud and wyn
Ran all togidder in a mellyn,
That was unsemly for to se:
Tharfor the men of that cuntre,
For sic thingis thar mellit^[21] wer,
Callit it the Douglas lardener."

In spite of these successful exploits at Turnberry and Douglas, the cause of Bruce was never so desperate as it was in the early months of 1307. He had not an acre of land he could call his own; three of his four brothers, and most of his trusty friends, had perished on the gibbet; of his other supporters, nearly all had given up his service as hopeless, and re-entered that of King Edward; his wife, his daughter, and his sisters were in English prisons.^[22]

On every side his foes were closing round his hiding-place in Glentrool. Four thousand foot from Cumberland, Westmorland, and Lancashire mustered at Carlisle in February and March,^[23] and Edward committed the pursuit to his most famous generals.

Aymer de Valence, Viceroy of Scotland, smarting under reiterated reproaches for want of success and apparent inaction,^[24] was concentrating his forces from the north; Sir Henry de Percy guarded the sea-ports on the west; Sir Dougal Macdouall had all his men under arms in Wigtownshire; while on the east Sir John de Botetourte, the Warden, watched the passes of Nithsdale with 70 horse and 200 archers. Sir Robert de Clifford, with Sir John de Wigtoun, guarded the fords of Cree. A special force of 300 Tynedale bowmen, under Sir Geoffrey de Moubray and three captains, was sent to search the recesses of Glentrool;^[25] while, most formidable of all, John of Lorn was hastening through Ayrshire with 22 men-at-arms and 800 active Highlanders.^[26] The sketch-map of the district, indicating the positions occupied by the forces of Edward, will show how little likely it was that the Bruce could escape their toils.

But it was not only his open foes that the King of Scots had to dread. It was essential that he should collect some troops for his defence, and few besides ruffians and broken men would be attracted to take service with him.^[27] Among his recruits there would be sure to be some ready to earn a handsome reward by his assassination or betrayal. Such an one, it seems, Sir Ingelram de Umfraville scrupled not to hire, a one-eyed rogue from Carrick, who wormed his way into Bruce's confidence.

It was the King's practice to rise early, and

withdraw from his men for a space every morning, generally alone, but sometimes accompanied by a page.^[28] This was well known to the Carrick ruffian, who plotted with his two sons to waylay the King one morning.

Bruce, we are told, had been warned against this man; so when he spied him coming with his sons through the wood to meet him, he was not slow to smell treason, especially as they were all three armed. Turning to his page, who most luckily was with him that day, the King snatched the bow out of his hand and a single arrow, and called on the three to stand. The father affected surprise.

"Bethink you, sire!" he cried, "who should be nearer your person than I?"

The King repeated his command that they should stand where they were, but the one-eyed rascal continued to remonstrate, all the time drawing nearer with his sons. Bruce, a practised hunter, drew bow on him; the arrow pierced his solitary eye. It was the only arrow the page carried, but the King never moved without his sword. With this he clove the skull of one of the sons who rushed on him with a hand-axe, and turned to meet the other who came at him with a spear. With one stroke of his sword Bruce shore the spear-shaft in twain, with another he smote the assassin to the earth.

After this, Douglas rejoined the King, fresh from the raid on his own lands. De Valence now advanced among the hills, probably by way of Dalmellington and Loch Doon. Bruce, watching his progress from the heights, and retiring before him, nearly fell into the hands of Lorn, who had made a circuit to take him in rear. The King had but three hundred men with him, and, placed as he was between two forces, each greatly larger than his own, it would have been stark madness to show fight. He therefore divided his company into three bands, ordering each to take a different line through the forest, and appointing a place and time for re-assembly.

Now Lorn had brought with him a famous bloodhound, once the property of, and greatly attached to, Bruce. He relied on this dog to settle on the trail of his old master, and he was not disappointed. The hound fastened on the scent of that band which remained with the King, and the pursuit soon became very hot. Bruce directed his followers to scatter and seek safety, each for himself, while he retained with himself none but his foster-brother.

Still the bloodhound stuck to his old master's trail. Lorn, feeling sure he had the right quarry before him, told off five Highlanders, fleet of foot, to run forward. These fellows soon overtook the King. Three of them attacked him, while the other two engaged his attendant. Bruce slew one of his assailants, and, on the others drawing off, turned to help his man, and killed one of the pair that had set upon him. Only three of the five now remained alive. The two Highlanders who had retired before the King came at him again, but he slew them both, while his foster-brother vanquished the fifth.

But the peril was far from past. Lorn's men were drawing near with the sleuth-hound in leash. The King was so greatly exhausted that, descending into a wood, he declared he could go no farther. It was the most critical moment of his whole life. On his foster-brother, did we but know his name, should be bestowed the glory of preserving the monarch—nay, the monarchy itself—of Scotland; for he persuaded the King to make one more effort, otherwise their fates had been sealed.

A stream ran through the wood; the fugitives dropped into it, and, by travelling along its channel for some distance, threw the bloodhound off the scent, and so made good their escape in the forest.^[29]

After a short rest, the King and his faithful companion resumed their journey. We know not what harbour they had in view, but it is easy to understand that the wood, though broad and thick, would not conceal them long from hundreds of eager hunters. Leaving it, therefore, they passed out on the wide moor, where they met three armed men, one of whom carried a sheep on his shoulders. These greeted the King, and told him they were seeking Robert de Brus.

"If that be so," said the King, "hold your way, and I will soon let you see him."

By his language and bearing the men suspected they were in the presence of the man they sought. But the King was on his guard. He made the three strangers march before him and his foster-brother, till they came to a deserted hut. There the sheep was killed, a fire kindled, and preparations were made for a much-needed meal and night's rest. But the King insisted that he and his comrade should have a separate fire at one end of the hut, to which the strangers consented with a bad grace. The famished fugitives ate their fill of broiled mutton, which made the desire for sleep almost invincible. But for the King and his man to sleep at the same time meant that neither of them should ever waken, for by this time they had little doubt of the intentions of their new acquaintances. Through part of the night they relieved each other in watching, but, so great was their weariness that at last both were overcome with sleep. Bruce, waking suddenly, heard his companion, whose watch it was, snoring soundly, and, at the same time, by the uncertain light of the embers, perceived the three fellows coming towards him from the other fire. He knew there must be mischief afoot, so, rousing his foster-brother with a hearty kick, he sprang to his feet sword in hand.

His companion staggered up, dazed with sleep, only to be struck down mortally wounded. It was three to one now; three fresh men, moreover, against one "fortravalit"^[30]; but such was the King's prowess as a swordsman that all three of his assailants fell before him.

Such, and many others like them, were the daily adventures of the Bruce, as recounted by the admiring Barbour; and it must be left to the judgment of each reader to decide how far they are to be admitted as literal history. Of this much we may be well assured, that Bruce owed his life on more than one occasion to his great activity and skill with weapons, and that none of the "gestis" recorded of him approach more nearly to the miraculous, than the plain fact of his escape from pursuit in Glentrool.

Before returning to the solid ground of authentic history, room must be found for one more legendary episode of this stirring time, which has at least the support of heraldry and place-names.

From the eastern shore of lonely Loch Dee—a sheet of water separated from Loch Trool by a mountainous pass—rises a hill called Craigencallie—the old woman's crag. Here, in a solitary cabin, dwelt a widow, the mother of three sons, each by a different husband, and named Murdoch, MacKie, and MacLurg.^[31] It was on this hill that the King, when he caused his followers to separate, had told them to re-assemble, and hither he came alone after the loss of his foster-brother.

He asked the old widow for food, of which he stood in sore need. She bade him come in, for that all wayfarers were welcomed for the sake of one.

"And prithee who may that one be?" asked the King.

"I'll tell thee that," quoth the goodwife; "it is none other than King Robert the Bruce, rightful lord of this land. His foes are pressing him hard now, but the day is at hand when he shall come by his own."

Upon this, the King made himself known, was welcomed into the house, and set down to a good meal. While he was discussing the homely fare, the three sons returned. Their mother made them do obeisance straightway, and they became staunch adherents of King Robert.

The King, so it is said, desired to test their prowess with the bow. The eldest, Murdoch, let fly at two ravens perched on a crag, and transfixed both with the same arrow. MacKie then shot another raven, flying overhead, but MacLurg missed his mark. When the widow's words came to be fulfilled by the King coming to his own, he asked her how he could reward her for her timely succour.

"Just give me," said she, "the wee bit hassock o' land atween Palnure and Penkiln."

Her request was granted, and the "bit hassock" being of considerable extent, about five miles long and three broad, was divided between the three sons. Hence the origin of the families of MacKie of Larg, Murdoch of Cumloden, and MacLurg of Kirouchtrie.^[32]

Douglas and Edward de Brus met the King at Craigencallie as agreed on, and about a hundred and fifty of their men gathered to them. Douglas brought word that he had passed a company of some two hundred of the enemy, carelessly bivouacked in Raploch Moss, whom he suggested they should attack at once. Falling on the sleeping soldiers before dawn, Bruce and his party took them by surprise, slew many of them, and dispersed the rest. A big stone in Raploch Moss is still pointed out as the King's resting-place after the fight.

During these events King Edward had been fretting on his sick-bed at Carlisle, wearying for news of the capture of "King Hobbe," as he called the Bruce. He had endeavoured to gain the good-will of the commonalty of Scotland by issuing a proclamation on March 13th addressed to all his officers in that country. It was to the effect that, understanding that some people interpreted his policy for restoring order as unduly harsh, which it was not his intention it should be, he now commanded that those who had been compelled by the abettors of Robert de Brus to take up arms, or to reset the said Robert by reason of his suddenly appearing among them, should be quit of all manner of punishment.^[33]

The olive branch was displayed in vain. Bruce's cause was beginning to win popular sympathy in Scotland, and his forces were increasing. De Valence determined to make a supreme effort to take the King. He employed a woman to enter Glentrool and find out the exact spot where Bruce was harboured. But the spy was taken and brought before the King, who frightened her into telling him her errand, and giving him information about the position and movements of the enemy.

From what this woman told the King, he was led to expect attack from the south, where Glentrool broadens into the valley of the Cree. The King's seat is pointed out to this day, a lofty ledge on the face of Craigmin, whence he is said to have watched for and viewed the English advance. The mountains descend at this place sharply into the lake, leaving but a narrow foothold on either shore, where men may pass in single file. Disposing his men in ambush on the heights guarding this defile, which goes by the name of the Steps of Trool, Bruce took up his post on Craigmin, whence he should give the signal for attack.

It is not known if de Valence himself was actually present with the expedition he had organised, but at any rate de Clifford, or de Waus, or both of them, marched up the Cree with 1500 men. Leaving their horses at the Borgan farm, where the Minnick joins the Cree (for beyond that point the land was impassable for cavalry), the party ascended on foot past Brigton and Minniwick, where shreds of the ancient forest of oak and birch still remain, and entered the glen about six miles above Borgan. Everything was silent and apparently deserted as they pressed on, till, arriving at the Steps of Trool, military formation had to be abandoned, and the soldiers clambered painfully along the steep shores of the lake. They were well within the jaws of the trap before they perceived any sign of the foe. Suddenly, far up on the side of Craigmin, a bugle sounded shrill. It was the King's, and as the notes died away, the hill-men sprang from their lair:

LOCH TROOL NEAR NEWTON-STEWART.

(From a photograph by Mr. Hunter.)

stones and arrows rained upon the invaders, and great boulders crashed down among them. Then Bruce's men rushed down the steep, and a hand-to-hand fight began. The superior numbers of the English availed them not at all, for the narrowness of the path prevented those in front and those behind from supporting their comrades. There was a great slaughter; some being cut down or killed with stones, others being driven into the lake and drowned. Only those in rear of the column could take to flight, and thus escape from this dreadful glen.

The shepherds still point out a narrow strip of meadow land at the head of Loch Trool, bright green between the brown mountains and the dark waters of the lake, which they call the Soldiers' Holm; for there, it is said, the Englishmen were buried who fell in this affair.

Barbour's romantic poem receives remarkable confirmation at this point from the prosaic source of the Chancery records. The poet tells how, after the defeat in Glentrool, de Valence had "in his hart gret angir," because he found the people of Ayrshire showing signs of disaffection to their English rulers, and beginning to favour the national cause. This was, in truth, the turning-point in Bruce's fortunes and that of Scottish independence. A letter written from Forfar on May 15, 1307, by one in the English interest whose name has not been preserved, announced to some one at King Edward's Court that Robert de Brus had never before possessed so large a degree of good-will, either among his own followers or with the people at large, as he did at that moment. "It now first appears," says the writer in Norman French, "that he has the right, and God is openly for him." He adds that a prophecy of Merlin has been discovered, to the effect that, after the death of Le Roi Coueytous, the Scots and the Bretons shall league together, have the sovereign hand, and live in accord to the world's end.^[34] Doubtless the writer had heard the news of the battle of Loudon on May 10th, for he speaks of the English army being in retreat, not to return; but some marked change in public opinion must have taken place in April to make that battle possible. Notwithstanding the manner in which Bruce was hemmed in on all sides by disciplined troops under experienced knights, every pass from the hills being strictly guarded, he managed to give them all the slip, and, passing along the moors by Dalmellington to Muirkirk, appeared early in May in the north of Ayrshire. That he should have accomplished this alone, or attended by a handful of adherents, would have been surprising in itself, even for one so prompt, so active, and so well trained in woodcraft. But the astonishing thing was, and still remains, that he was able to take the field with a sufficient force to accept de Valence's challenge to open battle.

1. Meat
2. Sometimes.
3. Snares.
4. Pike.
5. Eels and also minnows.—The Brus, xvii.
6. Barbour's narrative is here confirmed by a letter from King Edward to the Prince of Wales, September 14th, heartily acknowledging John of Lorn's services at this time.—Bain, ii., 490.
7. Bain, 480.
8. Palgrave, 358.
9. Annales Londinenses, i., 149.
10. Bain, ii., 485.
11. Original form of the surname Scrymgeour, pronounced Scrimmager in Scots.
12. So named from a very deep well within it, in Gaelic tiobar. It now stands a ruin in Drumlanrig Park.
13. Palgrave, 328-330.
14. In gratitude for this service, King Robert, after Bannockburn, granted Lennox the privilege of sanctuary for three miles by land and water round Luss church, on Loch Lomond.
15. This castle has wholly disappeared. It was the scene of a horrible massacre in the 17th century, when General Leslie, of the Covenanters' army, slaughtered the garrison of 300 brave Highlanders in cold blood.
16. Bain, ii., p. 491.
17. Ibid., 502.
18. Ibid., 495.
19. Bain, ii, 506; Palgrave, 318.
20. Thomas filius Ricardi.
21. Mingled.
22. Edward I. has been so often and so justly charged with cruelty in the Scottish war, that it is but fair to remark that, fierce as he was to offenders of his own sex, he never, with the single exception of the sack of Berwick, permitted violence to be done to women. But for his chivalrous scruples, he might easily have forced the King of Scots to surrender, by threatening the lives of Queen Elizabeth and Princess Marjorie.
23. Bain, ii., 506, 508.
24. Ibid., 504.
25. Bain, ii., 508.
26. Barbour's singular accuracy is shown here:

    "Johne of Lorne and all his micht
    That had of worthy men and wicht
    With him aucht hundreth men and ma."

    —The Brus, lii.

    De Valence's warrant is extant to pay John of Lorn for 22 men-at-arms and 800 foot.—Bain, ii., 520.

27. Barbour's estimate of the numbers with the King in Glentrool is from 150 to 300—much nearer the truth than that of Hemingburgh, who says that Bruce was lurking in the moors with 10,000 foot! The good monk never saw the Galloway hill country, or he might have been puzzled to explain how such a force could be fed there.
28. My readers should turn to Canto xlv. of Barbour's poem. It is exceedingly thrilling, though unfortunately all the details are not such as may be repeated by a modern writer.
29. Thus Barbour, lii., liii.; but he adds that some gave a different version of the adventure, namely, that the King went on, while the attendant stayed behind and shot the bloodhound with an arrow.
30. Wearied, worn out.
31. Barbour mentions only two, but local tradition is positive as to three.
32. Murdoch's feat is commemorated in the arms granted to his descendants, and duly enrolled in the Lyon Register, viz. argent, two ravens hanging pale-wise, sable, with an arrow through both their heads fess-wise, proper.
33. Bain, ii., 508.
34. Bain, ii., 513.